if he were here
by akuroh
Summary: if he were here, he would've at least tried to give everyone reasons to not feel so down. / / random drabble on what could happen if the reaper worked in P4 the same way it did in P3 (y'know how it had stalker tendencies and all that) / / spoiler-ish. character death.


They all sat together in a row of chairs, staring at the flowered casket in the front.

It was a quiet occasion. If it hadn't had that level of melancholy that a funeral usually brings; if he wasn't the one lying down in front of them, he would've at least tried to give everyone reasons to not feel so down. But he was.

Teddie sat next to the aisle, dressed like everyone else; in black. It was a color he never really liked. He felt it was all too reminiscent of shadows, and that it felt particularly hollow as a color.

Hollow.

If anything, that was exactly what he was feeling right now. Not hollow in the sense he had tried so hard to go against for so long; but something new to the bear. He knew he had nothing beneath his skin, but it felt like his insides where churning and swirling into emptiness.

Teddie was usually the most prone to breaking down in tears. But for some reason, all he could do right now was to stare right in front of him, feeling himself grow cold from the inside.

Sitting right next to Teddie was Kanji. If anything, he was redder than usual.

He was just so pissed off. He wasn't there when it happened, but if he were, he would've just driven the bastard that did this straight into the metal. _If only_, he thought, _if only the shadows they usually came against could feel as hurt as they did now_.

It was a good move that everyone decided to bring their glasses. It gave Kanji a way to hide his swollen, bloodshot eyes.

The night before the ceremony, the whole shopping district could hear the sound of fists smashing against the concrete of a building. It was Naoto who managed to stop the noise; she who managed to calm Kanji down in the middle of his rage.

They went to the riverbanks after she disinfected the wounds he had given himself. He may have broken a lot of bones, she noted. Ever since it happened, that was what Naoto was doing. She suddenly started keeping track of everything.

It _did_ happen in her own dungeon.

Naoto should've at least known a bit more about it; since it was her own subconscious manifesting. She should've at least taken notice to what kinds of shadows manifested there. What they could do to people.

Naoto still didn't really grasp the concept of the Midnight Channel and the shadows within, but there still was this engrossing feeling of guilt inside her. Maybe, just maybe, if she had at least taken note of how deadly her subconscious could get, then he wouldn't have died.

As the flow of the water started to become loud and aggressive, it was Kanji's loudening sobs of anger that brought Naoto back to reality. Rarely did Kanji cry out loud. Rarely did Naoto have to wipe her own tears away.

Rise didn't even plan on coming. It was just too much for her.

She knew there was always a chance for something like this to happen; they were always putting their lives on the line. They were always putting their lives in _her_ hands.

_The shadow's not much trouble. It's just kinda weird, so just be careful!_

Those were the words that echoed through her head since it happened. Shadows were usually harmless; no matter how big they were, as long as they didn't take on a more ferocious form. But why did this one take them by surprise? Why was it _that_ strong? Why hadn't she anticipated how different this enemy was compared to the others?

Through her Persona, she could vaguely hear Naoto's sporadic thoughts of guilt. But Rise knew it better than Naoto. She actually had the chance to warn them; hell, she even had the chance to stop the shadow from shooting its gun.

Rise was just too exhausted that she didn't even try to give explanation to what happened. When the firing of a bullet echoed all the way to the outside of the laboratory, she just lost it.

She started breaking down in the middle of the wake.

Yukiko couldn't do anything but offer her handkerchief and pat her friend's shoulder silently.

Even with the atmosphere hulking down on her and her friends, she knew she had to keep composure. It just wasn't the place to start bursting into tears; but she couldn't blame Rise for what she was feeling. Or at least that was what Yukiko was making herself believe.

She was there with him when the gun was shot; she was there when blood was pooling on the cold metal floor. Yukiko was usually with the group who went into dungeons specifically for her ability to heal her friends' wounds; even bring them back from unconsciousness.

But that moment. That moment was the first time she saw that much red; ironically her favorite color. She stood there in frozen panic, as Chie tried to bring the boy back to his senses.

She heard voices telling her to use her Persona; but when she tried to summon the card, nothing appeared before her. It's as if her bewilderment with the situation locked her much-prized capability.

_Another irony._ She thought. So for now, she tried to resist the urge to become unhinged by ironies. Hopefully that'll help her maintain her usefulness.

Chie accompanies Yukiko when the time to offer incenses arrives.

As they approach the casket, she feels her friend grab her hand in a subtle manner. Each step they took closer, the tighter their hands held each other.

The tightness of their grip reminded Chie of her own grip when she was hanging on to the bleeding body as she helped the team bring him out of the TV world. Every so often she'd remind him to stay with them, or to keep his eyes open.

Chie knew she did everything she could to help; she even tried to fight off the shadow that shot him in the first place, but she went straight back to accompany him.

At Junes, she scrambled for a phone, but when she got hold of one, she just didn't know who to call. She handed it to someone else instead and held the boy's hand again.

The look on his face made her muscles freeze and clench.

His eyes were starting to get cloudy; he couldn't even speak anymore. She just held his hand tighter and tighter, not even paying attention to how much of his blood was getting on her.

By the time the police and an ambulance had arrived, she couldn't feel a pulse anymore. She had just watched her friend die right before her eyes; she was holding him as he died.

When Chie and her friends were taken in for questioning, all she had on her mind was the last expression he made. Her eyes were shot wide open even as a cop shone light straight into them.

Every night after it happened, all she could think about as she lied in bed late at night was that face.

Even as she offered a stick of burning incense, she stared at the boy's face. The girl felt sick and twisted for wanting to see that face one more time; but she didn't even know _why_. She was just so haunted by that single look, that last show of life that the he made.

Souji was the last to light a stick of incense among his friends.

Of everyone in the Investigation Team, anyone would expect him to be hit by Yosuke's death the most. Even Dojima, after bringing him back home from the police station, felt a bit strange that Souji wasn't as distraught as he thought he would be by his best friend dying.

_Losing someone that close to you is always hard, Souji._ His uncle's words came back to him as he hovered over Yosuke's pale, lifeless face. _But take it from my own experience. It'll be much easier on you if you open up to someone. Anyone. Keeping all that inside? It won't do you any good._

For the rest of the week before Yosuke's funeral, he had been absent from school. Not even his closest friends knew where he was.

Only when Chie and Yukiko came to pick him up for the ceremony did they realize he had been locking himself in his own room, even more silent than he was before.

The thing that made everyone uncomfortable was the fact that Souji was silent.

Seeing Yosuke's blood become mist through the fog of the TV world air; seeing all life drain just from the look on his face; seeing him right now, expressionless, motionless, and dead.

Souji was still as calm as collected as ever.

As he stayed watching over Yosuke, certain facts came back to his mind.

It was Souji's idea to train in the laboratory, and to stay on that particular floor for too long. It was his idea to not mind the vague warnings Rise was making in reference to that one shadow.

It was him who Yosuke pushed aside from the path of the Reaper's bullet.

The moment that thought resurfaced, his eyes finally started to well up. He felt his hands shake violently as he grasped his friend's casket. In a matter of seconds he was wailing uncontrollably over Yosuke. The rest of the team didn't even move from their seats; in a way, they knew Souji needed to do this. They sat their crying alongside their leader.

Souji knelt in front of the casket still with tears dripping onto his black suit, unable to hear anything but his memories of that one moment.

Vividly, he recalled the moment he was pushed away; he could see Yosuke writhing in pain, clutching his chest as he lied on the ground. Blood was already pooling underneath him; some dripping from his mouth.

"It almost got you there, partner."

Souji pounded the ground beneath him as he screamed until he couldn't make any sound at all.


End file.
